Duel With the Devil, Chapter 20 of The Greatest Liar

“Fuck my ass, bad boy.”

He whooped like a warrior and bucked upwards, breached my long dormant butt ring, and barged deep into my colon. Fireworks exploded in my brain, fire engulfed my hole, my body convulsed, a scream erupted from my lungs.

“Fuck me, mother fucker, fuck me dead.”

Part of me wanted death, to join Silvio in the afterlife, or Miguel in hell, or Seth in paradise, or the dead T girls who’d perished in never ending the trans holocaust, in limbo between the realization of their aspirations and the brutal reality of their lives and miserable deaths.

“Never killed a single quarterback, though I mangled a bunch of them.”

“Then hit me harder.”

He battered, bludgeoned, and brutalized my butt and boobs. I begged for mercy, he fucked me harder until he groaned, slowed, and screamed “Oh fuck” and a warm flood inundated my colon.

The hot wave of bubbling cum and the shiver of his dick inside me brought me to an anal orgasm. My body was possessed, I thrashed like a dervish.

“Goddamn, fucking awesome.”

I kissed him.

“Totally.”

“I can’t wait to try the front pussy.”

I got up, my ass splunked and a flood of cum drizzled down my thighs.

“Got to change these sheets first.”

“Fuck it, let’s switch to another bedroom.”

“I could use a shower.”

“How about a bath?”

The soothing sounds of taps that flowed like waterfalls almost lulled me to a post orgasmic slumber. He brought me a robe and slippers, helped me to my feet, and caught me when I wobbled.

He drizzled an aroma therapy and Epsom salts into the swirling waters of a giant jacuzzi, gathered me in his arms, carried me like a baby, and baptized me in its waters.

“This is where I recover after a game day. Try it.”

I lolled into the fragrant, rippling waters and found a jet for the hollow of my back, which had borne the brunt of his thrusts and my recoil.

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

“Finishing that Dom will make it perfect.”

He handed me a flute, and his huge hand found my mons and massaged it.